RAGING through time--an Omega Squad Story
by Papaya Dreaming
Summary: When one thinks of Teemo, they think of pan flutes, peacefulness, living off of the land. Thanks to the rise of Urgot, however, he went from scout to killer. When a freak accident sends him and his team, the Omega Squad, back to Shurima in its glory, he must finish the mission while resisting the urge to change his-and the world's-future


People said Valoran was in a rough spot, but the swift scout thought it had been a wasteland since before he was born. Back before recordable history, the actions of kings and royalty in Shurima resulted in a cataclysm-those things that survived, the Demacian territory, the Ionian Isles, their foliage and greenery made them the targets of less fortunate territories.

It was foregone that these conflicts led straight to their ancestors' fate, though none knew how. In the end it was their advancing technology, the very buoy of hope against that fate, which cast its cape away from them first.

Teemo didn't see the jungles still alive. He didn't see the fae beauty still trapped in the corners. Even on the streets of Zaun, where orderly monstrosities had helped clean the ruined city, he saw the same old hell. Under the mask, everything was already dust. The world had ended, and he was dead. But he was taking everything with him.

"Captain Teemo, reporting for duty," he whispered into a HexTech com, pulling his leg free of the sewer grate. The men and women shambling towards the hall couldn't see the yordle. Their eyes were locked forward, chins rigid in a display of strength. There were some humans who smiled as if finally understanding their station. They had adapted to the regime of Urgot, de facto ruler of the chem barons. Even if Teemo stood up and yelled "get a hold of yourselves," they wouldn't risk looking.

"Did the rat come through?" Tristana asked, her voice crackling through his earpiece.

A rat poked its head from the sewers. Teemo hated both it and the manic grin it wore. Then it managed to push up a duffel full of weapons, and the Yordle hated it a smidgen less.

"I added some of my own playthings." Twitch opened up the duffel, revealing several venom casks. Putrid fumes leaked from a crack in one-the yellow sulfur pooled beneath the ventilators on Teemo's mask. "I want them back," he growled.

"There's no going back where we're headed," Teemo said. He pulled out his blow gun and slid three darts into the pipe, and smothered up the leaking gas-grenade. "If people start dropping out here, though, we won't make it that far."

Twitch pulled his arms free of the hole. He held a large crossbow in his paws. "Let's mow 'em down! Ha! I can skewer eight in a line with one shot from my darling."

Teemo opened his com, ready to ask for permission to ditch the rat, but thought better of it. Mowing down these shells wasn't the worst idea, either. A good distraction, and at this point... any price was worth a shot at killing the dreadnought Urgot. The old executioner had risen out of the Zaunite mines like the punisher of each and every breathing thing in Valoran, an answer to their deeds over the last few decades. He controlled everything, except for one city situated behind mountains, protected by miles and miles of empty desert. Bandle City.

He let the com fizz away and hefted up the bag, dragging it across the street and into an open shanty. Twitch followed, slithering low across the ground, head edged sideways to keep an eye on his possessions.

"We're at the rendezvous," Teemo told Tristana.

"Ziggs and Veigar are on their way." A silent moment, radio button held down. "It should be me going in there-"

"Bandle needs you. They don't need someone like me." He hoped one day, his sort could just die.

Twitch wasn't content with being on the surface, nor for something so boring as a rendezvous. "Say, we're birds of a feather." He giggled and pointed to a mushroom on Teemo's belt. The Yordle smacked his paw away and he retreated, stung. "Ow! So, vile brother, what's your preferred poison? I like to brew my own from the toads down in the sewer. For this occasion, I brewed a delicious concoction from the secretions of a gromp. The more you struggle, the worse it hurts."

"I don't want my enemies fighting back," Teemo replied.

"When Bandle builds me my new lair, you will come on as an associate, yes? Yordles are talking rats of a kind. Hiding in gutters while the world burns."

Teemo drew his knife and pointed it at the rat. "Say that again and I'll-"

Veigar was at the entrance to their shanty. He had a hand up to his helmet, saying something inaudible.

"Stop messing around with Twitch," Tristana ordered him a moment later.

Twitch guffawed. "Tattled upon!"

Right away Veigar rifled through the bag, pulling out his magical gauntlet. The one natural magician on their team, his power would be useful in avoiding the concert hall's HexTech detectors. He managed to infiltrate Urgot's guard by posing as a doting weakling. As loathsome as it was to admit, the magician had learned the act from his time in Noxian captivity. He used to command respect in a blue gown and a hat that covered his severe facial scars. Teemo had nothing but pity for the solemn Yordle slipping on his equipment. Without those robes he had lost the desire to act out.

Ziggs followed and rudely shoved in, knocking the cover of the grenades. Veigar flew back from the fumes, fanning his hands, but didn't say anything. He was here entirely as a favor to Ziggs, who once upon a time blew a hole in the walls of the wizard's prison.

"Haha, what kind of grenades are these?" Ziggs asked, inspecting the cask. "These don't explode!"

"Better seep than sunder," Twitch shot back, snarling. "You break it, you buy what's inside."

Their explosives expert slung a rope of large bombs over his shoulder. Teemo remembered their lighter missions. As a scout, he was put in charge of finding secure places for Ziggs's 'tests.' Out of all of them, besides Tristana, Teemo rooted for his survival. Believe it or not, the crazed bomber had never actually bombed a living target. It was a hobby for him.

Veigar pointed at the concert hall. The last of the guests filtered in through the double doors. He shoved on his helmet with gusto, indicating his eagerness to slip inside.

"Everyone ready?" Tristana asked, nervous.

Teemo nodded at nothing. "We're all set."

"Almost... there!"

Their captain slung herself down from the sheetmetal acting as the shanty's roof. She filled the landing, landing right on her back. "Gah... one moment..." she slung her cannon over her right shoulder and struck a pose. It was obvious she tried to slip up on purpose to lighten the mood, but only the stupid rat laughed. Everyone else worried.

"Our mission," she said, ignoring the atmosphere, "is to break in from under the hall and infiltrate the back hallways. According to Twitch, Urgot will lose focus while watching his little arena bouts. We need to watch out for Warwick."

"And the reanimated one," Twitch added, "with the enticing aroma of reanimated flesh!"

Ziggs chuckled. "Wait till you get a whiff of burnt, reanimated flesh, you nasty animal." Twitch nodded and proceeded to pretend-beg for it.

Teemo frowned underneath his helmet. Why was Ziggs lying to impress this stranger?

Without further discussion, Tristana wheeled around and started for the hall.

She was supposed to mention how Teemo would be the one to go for the kill. How it would be him stuck in the hall with the remainder of Urgot's regiment while chaos broke out in the main atrium. Even so she was the best commander for this job, Tristana failed to admit mention how there was no way out.

* * *

The 'concert hall' as it was dubbed, started as the above-surface section of a mining facility. It was later rigged to be an arena in which men and women fought to the death, often without weapons and left to scratch and bite. Standing as such, the hellish place still had connections to the tunnels. Whether or not Urgot, the insane baron, had the wherewithal to seal those passages, was for the Omega Squad to find out.

Omega Squad. The last team. The last chance. There weren't enough willing fighters in Valoran left against Zaun. If they failed, then the entire world outside of their continent was also doomed.

Ziggs motioned for them to all step away from his satchel charge. They took cover behind an old cart.

"Fire in the hole!" Ziggs shouted, pulling the cord.

A wave of force knocked Teemo's vision about. Before the dust settled Veigar charged ahead, already using his magic to carve a path down into the mines. The night was stunning. No longer the grimy factory capital of its prime, the Zaunite skies had cleared. The stars rivaled the brightness of those Teemo saw in Bandle City, during the Mothership Celebration. He had been laying on the grass outside his home, music booming in the distance, when Tristana found him.

"Someone has to do something," Tristana said right away. "We can't leave the rest of Valoran to die while we dance around and eat cupcakes. We aren't so fanciful. We are being monstrous."

Teemo remembered sitting upright, ears perked in interest. "I tried to convince you of this a week ago. What changed?"

She sat down, sighing. "You came back from your scouting expedition. It was the first time I ever saw blood on your hands. And your head. And your tail. And your back..."

His ears twitched. "Okay, I get it. It was a first for me, too. I don't know what came over-"

"You had no choice!" Tristana exclaimed. "Those Zaunites were going to kill you. B-But it made me know for sure: until we get rid of them forever, you won't be free. Poppy will ask you to do what you did again, again and again."

The conversation was now back in charted territory. The Yordle laid back down, pretending to star-gaze.

"Don't give me the silent treatment! I can already see you resigning to your fate. Like you've given up. Where does it say to give up in the scout's code?!"

Teemo knew she was right. Once he entered that... state again, it was over. Because what he missed in his blood-covered debriefing to Poppy was the one thing he recalled most: it felt good.

"What can we do?" Teemo asked.

"I spoke to Heimerdinger, and he refused to help us on this directly."

"Directly."

"He had a star pupil. Someone who has touched on both Piltover and Zaunite tech, and has a penchant for death machines. Heimerdinger agreed to fund whatever this pupil makes for us. His name is Rumble, and he's-"

"You know how I feel about technology, Tristana. Tell 'Rumble' I can equip myself."

Tristana clapped his back and grinned ear-to-ear, thought it carried a hint of a grimace. "Not with what I have planned...

"Hey, get in it!" Tristana shouted.

Teemo looked around, dazed. He had never lost focus on a mission before. Leave it to him to pick the most important one to start doing so.

"Are we close?"

Tristana nodded, then shook her head.

He shrugged at her, frustrated by the non-answer.

She jabbed a thumb over her left shoulder.

"No, no!" Twitch was howling. "Let's not ruin my chances of a lab over some whelp. Continue on our nasty task, we must."

"We aren't leaving a child to rot in a cage," Ziggs said. "I don't have the biggest stake in this, but we're losing a soldier to, well..."

Veigar grasped the edges of a steel cage-newly added, if the lack of dust said anything. There was a destroyed look on the dark wizard's face, as if he was drowning in a torrent of bad memories.

"Pitiful," Teemo let slip. Tristana slapped the back of the head and he stumbled forward, kneeling down to inspect the prisoner.

An orange-furred Yordle laid shivering in the corner. Not from cold, in fact, it seemed to have sought out the place farthest from the torches. Even with guests the prisoner remained coiled around himself, but he did deign to lift his head at the sound of guests.

"Ga-ga," he remarked, sadly, before laying down again. What sort of Yordle had such sharply-colored fur?

"We're letting him go," Teemo ordered.

Veigar grasped his gauntlet and pointed it at the cage.

"Bri, bri!" The orange Yordle pleaded. He said free, free perhaps.

"Not like that," Twitch spat. "Want to know the raunchiest smell to me? A bleeding heart." Tittering to himself, the rat removed the bolt loaded on his crossbow. By brushing the arrowhead over the cages, the metal began to dissolve. "Happy?"

"Yes," several Omega Squad members said in tandem.

"Got a name, fella?" Tristana asked.

"Gnar, ga-ga!" He swiped proudly.

"Well fed," Tristana said, musing. "Twitch did mention tonight was a special showing. But is this Gnar really an equal to their fighters? Maybe we're about to have an easier time of this than we thought-"

As if brought by the gunner's comment, two forms rounded a curve farther into the mines. Their hulking figures blocked out any light from the nearby torches. In their absence, Teemo's heart froze over.

"WAAAAAAAARM UP!" Cried a red giant of a zombie. It pounded its hands together and started to close in.

Gnar pointed at him, enthralled. "Siii!"

"Warwick and Sion together?" Tristana said. "Awesome."

The other Zaunite, a wolf-hybrid named Warwick, ran his claws against the cave-walls. A behemoth zombie and a killing machine. Well, they were both large and killing machines to Yorldes. They lacked a member who rose above their knees.

Teemo spotted a chute deeper into the mines and made a split-second decision.

"You all take on Sion," he said, preparing his blowgun. "I'll handle Warwick."

Twitch dropped a bolt on the ground, too nervous to load his gun. "Y-You're going to one-on-one Warwick?! Nice knowing ya."

"If I don't come back, you take my place on Urgot."

Tristana withdrew her cannon, scowling. "I order you not to-"

Teemo pressed a button on his helm, opening up his ventilator. He brought the blowgun to his mouth and fired a dart straight into the wolf's leg.

Warwick half-howled, half-laughed, pulling out the ineffective barb. It was good to know his poison did nothing.

Running forward, Teemo banked a right and dove down the cute, beckoning for the hunter to follow.

* * *

The chute led to a nice cushy landing: a pile of mined rocks. Teemo seemed to slap every pointy bit on the way down, finally ending up prostrate on the ground.

He got up right away and checked his blowgun. The synthetic metal held up. His old blowgun, passed down by his father, would have snapped in half. He hated technology so much.

It was dark, not a light source to be seen. The helmet over his head had rudimentary night-vision. In order to move on Urgot tonight, Rumble had to let a bug go through: whenever Teemo turned, the display lagged behind. Was this better than blindness?

The sound of Warwick landing forced Teemo to keep his helmet on. He dashed behind a nearby pillar and held still. A natural scout, he could remain motionless for days at a time. There was no way for the wolf to find him.

"Come out, come out," Warwick called. "I nary have an idea who you are," he added, whining. "Who are the five little friends who came to visit? I'm drooling thinking about who they might be."

Teemo didn't reply. His suit's fabric was built to take on the smell of whatever substance he leaned on, so-

Warwick pounced, claws slashing for Teemo's throat. The Yordle flew out of the way and sprinted in the opposite direction, yet felt the beast's presence gaining on his flank.

Going out on a limb, he wheeled back and fired his second dart straight into the air.

He managed to hide again, this time digging into a pile of rocks. Fortunate for him, Warwick admitted he had no idea who they were. The wolf was forced to stay back until he knew what Teemo's darts were capable of.

The dart hit the ground, useless.

Warwick laughed at the ingenuity of it, then proceeded to stalk the dark pit some more.

How was he discovered? Teemo felt all over himself for some sign. He touched his side, and his paw came back wet. The rocks had torn his suit. Blood. Twice in one mission Teemo failed to think ahead.

"It's only fun if they run, not if they hide," Warwick teased.

The monster struck, digging through the Yordle's cover and picking him up. Teemo tried to twist around for a kick but in a moment's passage he was trapped in the wolf's jaws. Laughter bounced about the tomb as Warwick swung his head about, throttling his dinner.

Just as his prey started to go limp, Warwick threw Teemo down for a better 'devouring' angle. He thought the short, furred scout defeated. Not this one.

Teemo spun around and jammed the pipe of his blowgun into the roof of Warwick's mouth. He shot off the last dart before sticking the bottom end over the monster's tongue.

As he fled, Warwick caught his leg with a slash and he went spilling again, crying out this time. By the time he was crawling away his helmet caught up, playing back the instant Warwick swung. Teemo threw off the helmet... growing more angry than panicked, now.

He stood up and took out his knife.

Meanwhile, Warwick was going mad, unable to remove the blowgun. His words came out as empty breaths, then his furious eyes fell on Teemo. And those spoke well enough.

Zaunites, at least the ones who weren't the dregs, all had enhancements. This right-hand to Urgot jumped with speed unheard of in Valoran. Teemo guessed at the dark shape's intentions and threw himself to the ground.

Like Teemo suspected, Warwick's wolf instincts forced him over and over again to attempt to bite, wasting time as the two struggled on the ground. It bought the scout a second to adjust before a set of equally sharp claws flew by the corner of his sight.

Teemo, despite being pinned, raised a hand up to check his ear. Gone.

He snarled. 'Enough was enough, Tristana,' he thought. 'I tried my best.'

Heimerdinger referred to it as the 'modern rage gene.' In ancient history, Yordles once had the capability to transform into great beasts. Yet the contemporary, one-of-a-kind mutation didn't make Teemo transform in any seeable way.

And still it was worse than any monster.

Teemo caught Warwick's next swipe, clenching the sallow talons in his had. Growling, he put all of his force into flipping the pin, making the wolf wheeze in shock. Warwick attempted to save himself with his other arm. In the gloomy cave, the motion with which Teemo slashed his arm was too fast to be seen.

The knife made a hollow thump when it hit the ground. Teemo, not atop the stunned beast, withdrew a mushroom. Almost as if he was taking time to make it neat as possible, he replaced the blowgun with the poisonous mushroom.

"That isn't like my darts," Teemo promised. "That's gonna sting." He threw himself off of Warwick, crawling for a few steps before rising to full height. His hand was shredded from holding onto those claws, so he left the blowgun. It had drool all over it, anyway. "Good luck."

Warwick stood up, silently screaming in his fight to remove the mushroom. His claws were too big to tug it out. Teeth too wide to let it drop.

There was an old tunnel that seemed to lead back up. Shaking his head with shame at what he did, Teemo limped through its threshold just as a poisonous cloud exploded into the air.

* * *

Up above, Sion wrought havoc on the remaining Omega Squad members.

Twitch scurried away as the beast pounded holes into the ground, holes which happened to be right where the rat was standing.

'These bolts can corrode metal,' Twitch thought. 'They can melt metal, why aren't they melting him?!'

Two bolts stuck out of the zombie's shoulder. Twitch got distracted looking at them and slammed back-first into the wall. Sion looked down at him, grinning.

"Mercy!" Twitch screamed, throwing down his weapon.

Sion gave the rat a backhand which sent him rolling down the tunnel. And would have followed with a finisher, too, except an impudent Yordle kept shooting at his back.

"Go... down... already!" Tristana roared, shooting off another round of shrapnel. Nothing seemed to pierce their enemy. Teemo might know what to do, but he was off in some chasm, alone, with a monster reputed to pride himself on torturing-

"Dieeee!" Tristana ran up on Sion, preparing another explosive round.

Sion guffawed at the sheer disrespect of the Bandle gunner. Nonetheless, he could never refuse a good head-on-head.

But it wasn't as it seemed: at the last moment, Tristana shot the ground and propelled herself into the air. Her back hit the roof the cave, knocking free trails of dust and stealing her breath. Gasping for air, she wrapped her arms around Sion's neck. She gifted him an explosive-charge necklace.

The charges worked on force. The more one hit them, the stronger the blast. Even as Sion threw his own body against the walls, Tristana kept banging on it.

She remembered there were plenty of people out there who needed her alive. She rolled off and let the charge explode. All to be seen in the dust cloud was a red body rocketing into the old prison cell.

Tristana smacked into the ground and bounced up to her feet. She glanced at Ziggs, Veigar, and Gnar, who gave her a dumb look.

Sion began to stand up, giggling. "Fun, fun. Better than the arena."

"Ziggs!" Tristana shouted. "Hello?"

Ziggs fumbled through his motley assortment of bombs. "M-Mom always said these are intended-"

"Ugh, don't care. Veigar, tear him apart."

Veigar shook his head and shoved Gnar farther behind him. His eyes quivered with fear, recognition.

At this moment, the wizard thought about Sion in life, back when he had skin the color of rotted olive. How many died as a message from this monster? How could the world give such evil a second chance?

Veigar was imagining how he used to think himself evil. The world was evil. The world was unfair.

"Listen," Tristana said. "Whoever he is, Bandle is stronger. You're stronger. This is pathetic, if this is all you got, just let me wear the gauntl-ah!"

Sion, knowing his own speed, chucked a rock ahead of himself. It struck true, dazing the Omega Squad commander. She wobbled and shot wide, hitting the ceiling, and then fell back to rub at her head-wound.

"Good girl," Sion rasped. "I never thought I would find a warrior... to give me the same entertainment as Jarvan IV. And to think it came from someone so... unexpected to match up."

Sion stomped at Tristana, arm raised. Then he jerked back, held back by his own first.

Veigar stepped towards him, shaking. He mumbled something.

"Magic!" Sion wrenched against the bind. "Quit murmuring your spells and fight me!"

"Was that a short joke?" Veigar asked.

Sion's jaw clacked. "What?"

"Was that... a short joke?!" Veigar shouted, his cackling voice returned.

The red zombie panicked and tried to swing, yet found his body stolen away. With a gesture, the wizard lifted Sion up into the air.

Veigar glanced back at Gnar, as if seeking approval. The orange Yordle rocked back and forth. "You dare strike at the dark master? Impudence! Impude-ee-nce!"

He flung down his gauntlet and tore Sion in half. Dark magic gooped out of the two parts, their owner looking on stunned.

"Seriously, Veigar?" Tristana cried, swatting away the mess. "This is why we banned you from Bandle City."

"Silence!" The dark lord instinctively tried to tug on his hat, and remembered where he was. "Um, I mean..."

"Don't worry about it." She shook of her shoes. "Where's Twitch?"

The rat was awake from his battering, and was now inspecting Sion's remains. He kicked the giant, only for its arm to jerk out with some last bits of reanimation. He yelped and fell back.

"I thought you were going to make his flesh burn," Twitch growled. Ziggs averted his gaze. "Look! I lost my favorite teeth because of you. They were the right shade of yellow... rotted through, too!"

"You know, if you cleaned up, maybe you wouldn't need to risk your tail to get a lab. You seem pretty clever, for, well...being you."

"I refuse to give up my sovereignty. We find different things likable, but we can agree an enslaved creature is repugnant."

"That sounds, almost, like you're actually here because you care."

"Ha!" Twitch flashed his now-ruined smile. "I'll stick close to this Veigar, I think he will understand-"

"Stay away from me," Veigar said, lifting up his gauntlet.

"...Or admire him from a distance."

Ziggs came forward. "Should we go?"

Tristana nodded gravely. "I think so."

"No faith in your bestie, huh?" Twitch asked.

"The opposite. I promise you, you won't need to be the one who goes after Urgot."

* * *

The inside of the arena was resplendent, to Teemo's surprise. Or maybe it was his grievous wounds blurring his vision.

Crippled, controlled by soome gene he never asked for, smack dab in the middle of perhaps the vilest place to ever exit in Valoran since Renekton's trial chambers. Teemo knew his day, no, his time was coming to a close.

The rich nobles eventually took notice of the Yordle in their midst. Before, Urgot allowed no one into his midst. Everything was weakness. Yet that was a time of study. Now the dreadnought had a pplan, and the plan was to let Valoran cannibalize itself over a dwindling amount of spoils. These bottom feeders would end the world for the chance to enjoy royalty.

In the arena, two starved men fought. He wasn't able to see, but he was in earshot, and Teemo wished Warwick took both ears.

"Teemo?" One noble exclaimed.

The scout turned around. A fat Yordle closed in on him.

"...Bir?" A merchant. And an old drinking partner. No surprise seeing him here.

"The one and same! Whatever happened to you? Did you fight to earn your place? I wish you would have chosen a public venue, it can be so hard to earn respect here."

Teemo risked a lookaround, at all the armed people waiting on his answer.

"...Yes."

Bir clapped him on the back. Teemo coughed something out that made Bir step back again. "Well, I did as well. I fought a young girl, who unfortunately carved her nails away on the mortar to her cells. I might have, you know, hinted it was possible to dig out."

Teemo wiped his eyes, tired. "Really."

"Urgot speaks truth. We need to strategize. Homogenize under the same set of standards. No Demacian generosity that kills the purse, no Noxian pride that kills the body, no Ionian balance that atrophies the mind. 'Tis from a speech of his."

"Neat."

"You will fit in here, friend."

This time, the Yordle shuddered. "I... I know. Bir, this is a cruel place, right?"

"Yes. So stick by me. You watch my back... I'll promise you medical assistance before you bleed out in this hall. 'Tis the culture, my fellow blood."

Teemo nodded. "I think I have a grasp of the culture, Bir, thank you. Hold this for me."

He withdrew his knife and stabbed Bir unde the chin. The Yordle's maw popped open in shock, arms flailing about for support. Too tired to rush, he waltzed Bir over to the edge and shoved him into the pit.

The nobles nearby applauded the act. Though one popped out, a scrawny teen holding a rusted sword. The one kind Bir would manage to influence.

The rage gene told him to send the teen following after his master. He wasn't strong enough to ignore it, and he prepared to surprise the foolish boy with a spurt of strength.

A wet hand slapped on his shoulder. Then an arm curled around his throat and dragged him into one of the nearby private rooms.

This room, it seemed, belonged to an old quartermaster of the mines. A bloodstain still stained the headboard.

Teemo concentrated on weakly struggling against his captor.

"Are you of out of your dang mind?" The youthful voice snapped. "Come on, quit writhing or you'll lose every drop of blood in your body."

It was a good point. He rolled around to see a... fish? He was going insane. The blue, almost Yordle-like creature scowled at him.

The teen threw open the door, still clutching that stupid broken blade.

"Seriously?" The two asked together.

"Your master is dead," Teemo spat.

"Go find someone else to grovel at," the fish added.

The teen took in a breath, dropped the sword, and ran off. But maybe it was better if he stayed, as the fish began to fire off questions.

"You're no noble. Who are you?"

"Captain Teemo..." he laughed morbidly. "Going off duty..."

"Like, who are you really?"

"Assassin. Came to kill Urgot." There was no slipping by this one. He had a bladed trident strapped to his back, as well as a small satchel filled with what smelled like bait. Teemo remembered fishing on Bandle's little dock...

"Good idea, my idea as well. Name's Fizz."

That was a relief- both his name and his purpose.

"You're with a group though. Who?"

"Omega Squad from Bandle City. A bunch of Yordles... one rat. Seen him?"

Fizz shook his head. "I've been cooped up in this arena since I got into Zaun. I heard that Urgot opened up the ultimate arena, and I love to scrap. Came out of the sea and dragged myself all the way here. But he doesn't conduct the right kind of sport. He... he puts you up against far weaker opponents."

Teemo nodded, understanding. "You're afraid you'll be the weaker opp-"

"I would love that, stupid!" Fizz snapped. "No. I won't be caught dead fighting guppies. I want to fight the big ones, like Warwick. Have you seen him? He's a wolf, yet five times stronger and smarter. Land against sea."

The scout coughed. "Oops. I got to him first. Let me tell you, he is no fun."

Now, Fizz dropped his tough act and went wide-eyed. "Y-You fought Warwick and won? Cool!" This creature wasn't so old: Fizz didn't seem to get that the world was ending. He just wanted a good fight. "Here, take this," he stammered, removing a small fish from his pouch. He gnashed it up into a pile of goopy sludge and started to attack Teemo with it. "Don't worry, this will fix you up good. Well, it heals my kind, at least. You've got to teach me a thing or two before you go, have you ever fought a shark before-hey, where are you going?"

The Yordle wrinkled his nose and stood up. His captor was faster, however, and blocked the way out.

"Move," He asked politely. "I've got to kill Urgot."

Fizz shook his head. "Look... it's somebody else's turn today."

Teemo cocked his head to the side. "Whose?"

Instead of answering, Fizz tossed open the door and tugged him close to the balcony.

There Urgot stood.

He was situated in a tower built out of scrap, that rose higher than the rest of the complex. Just to look down at the arena, his grotesque body had to flatten its legs. No, worse, Urgot's gut opened up into a mess of wires and cogs, allowing him to peer over the end of his throne and onto the fight. A sour smile lined his blue lips. Teemo hadn't caught the stink before, but now that he had seen Urgot the smell of oil and blood singed his nostrils. The Yordle felt a pang of fear. He expected to be afraid. Not from this far, and not when he was safe. His kind was used to shortness. Seeing differently because of their bone structure and genes. There was nothing he deemed more unreachable than the top of this heap of broken mining machines and lumber.

"Got your breath?" Fizz asked, out of respect.

"Had it the whole way through." Saying thus admitted it: just gazing upon Urgot was an experience. No wonder the half-man, half-machine exerted so much influence. How close had Bir gotten? A few feet? Inches from Urgot's rotted breath? Guilt made his fur stand on end.

"See the cuffed man next to Urgot?"

Teemo did. A dark-skinned boy, no older than the teen waving around his rusty, trusty blade. He wore Zaunite clothing, and a pair of outlandish handcuffs. Urgot, his arm wrapped with chains, tugged the boy closer to watch the fight. Judging by a gurgled cry, it just ended. Teemo realized the dreadnought never batted an eye at seeing Bir stumbled into the arena.

"His name is Ekko. Urgot likes him a lot, whatever that says about his character, and keeps him close. He is the one who has a plan." Fizz nodded to himself. "And speaking of that plan, we need to get out."

"Why?"

"He has some sort of chrono-grenade. He recommended I get several... dozen meters away." Fizz's eyes widened. "Oh, boy."

Ekko walked up the lip of the tower, and started to address the crowd.

"I promised myself this city," he cried, "wouldn't be the end of me."

Teemo pulled an enamored Fizz towards the exit, while the nobles all stared on in muted entertainment. Urgot mocked him by pulling his chain, tripping him, but the boy stood back up.

Ekko revealed a device. It glowed blue, followed by a prismatic flash.

"Damn Zaun!" He shouted.

"Bombombom..."

Gnar busied himself chewing on Tristana's shoulder-pad. The gunner shifted, starting to regret letting the kid free. Maybe it would have been best to retrieve him in the ensuing chaos.

Veigar seemed more confident than ever. If they needed it, his magic was at its strongest. Even Ziggs walked with an air of certainty. The next chance he got to fight, he'd just have to ignore his mom's words.

Out of the blue, Twitch threw up a paw. "Wait, all of you." His eye fell on Tristana. "I smell a lot of blood."

"Whose?"

"Your bestie. Coming out of this hole over here." He paced over, pointing to a dark chasm. Black blotches, each a heartbeat apart, led all the way to an exit dug into the mines. Scrap heap formed a spiral staircase leading up into fresh air.

Tristana was too worried. "Teemo... mothership above, there is a lot of blood here-Twitch?"

The rat emerged from the chasm, shaky-pawed he handed something to the commander. "Warwick was writhing down there. Close to death, sadly breathing. I told him my poison was best, I did."

She clenched the torn ear in her hand. "I'm... going up there. If I know Teemo, and I do, he is up there right now, trying to complete the mission."

"What do you owe this one, anyway?" Twitch asked. "Capable as he is."

"I..."

She was interrupted by the scout leaping off the last few steps, slamming into the wall.

"Watch it!" Cried some... thing. He followed Teemo down and helped him stand up again. He spotted the motley ahead and unsheathed a trident one and a half times his size.

Tristana threw up her gun. "Get away from him and freeze!"

Teemo rushed forward, waving his hands like a maniac. "B-B... there's a... a, about to..."

"Bom bom... BOM!" Gnar screeched.

"Bomb!" Tristana yelled to the others.

The same way she summoned Sion and Warwick, she summoned the explosion of Ekko's chrono-device. A bright blue light cast itself down into the stairwell.

No matter how fast they went, there was no outrunning the blast. Thinking quick, Veigar threw out his hand and formed, for once in his life, a defensive magic. The others gathered around the barrier just as the explosive energy engulfed it.

"Ah... this foolhardy explosion dares challenge my... my barrier?"

She, around bombs all her life, had trouble hearing. "Stop talking like that and focus!"

"Whatever this is, it's not normal magic!" It turned the fringes of Veigar's shield purple, until their full orb of protection had shifted tone.

"It's a chrono-bomb-thing," Fizz supplied.

Ziggs perked up, opening his eyes again. "Chrono-bomb... a time bomb? Set which way?"

The blast passed them, and peace returned. Nothing seemed different, except for kicked-up dust.

A cough came from Teemo. "Needless to say, I bet that didn't kill Urgot."

"It wasn't supposed to kill him," Ziggs said. "It was supposed to bring him somewhere. Hoo, boy."

"Don't sit around 'hoo boying,'" Fizz replied. "Tell me what happened!"

The dust settled. Omega Squad et al noticed: they weren't actually in their cave anymore. It was a marble hall, with walls of regal orange. The smell of verdant life assaulted they who weren't used to such things.

Teemo limped over to the window. They weren't in Zaun anymore. Where they were couldn't be described except through childrens' books and tomes of folklore.

The chrono-bomb brought them back. Back to Shurima.


End file.
